


Of Strippers, Kittens and Coffee...?

by cloudwisp



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, But can be completely ignored, Drunk and emotional Eren, Fluff, He also has some piercings, Humor, I'd say it's pretty funny, Jean has some killer tattoos, M/M, Marco also likes Jean's butt, Marco likes kittens, Not really graphic, Smut, Stripper AU, Stripper!Jean, Teeny tiny mentions of, Who wouldn't?, chubby!marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudwisp/pseuds/cloudwisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I really didn't want to go but Reiner forced me. Apparently, the fact that I had never been to a strip club was a crime against humanity or something over dramatic like that.</p><p>Marco is dragged to a strip club named the 'Three Walls' on his twenty second birthday. Cue Jean - a stripper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Strippers, Kittens and Coffee...?

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy!

I really didn't want to go but Reiner forced me. Apparently, the fact that I had never been to a strip club was a crime against humanity or something over dramatic like that.

That was how I ended up outside this club, the neon sign over the door making me squint. The bright blue lights proclaim that we are at the 'Three Walls'. I have no idea what the name is supposed to mean - why are walls relevant right now? And why three? I need four right now so I can build a fortress - safe from strip clubs and Reiner Braun alike. I don't even bother to try and work it out, I don't care really and I'm a bit tipsy due to Reiner insisting we ought to have a few drinks before heading out.

Bertholdt is the only one who feels kind of bad for forcing me into this, he stands behind me with a reassuring hand on my shoulder as we wait in the queue. Reiner feels no remorse shoving me into this situation - every time I tried to back out he had said it was my birthday gift from him (he was paying for everything) and that I couldn't refuse if it were a gift. I kind of feel bad about the whole Reiner paying thing, I know I'll find a way around it though. The other two that came with us stand to the side, more drunk than Reiner, Bertl and I. Eren and Connie are holding each other up and are giggling over something one of them said, I didn't quite catch what it was.

Finally we get through the door and we walk into the 'Three Walls'. It's actually pretty nice inside - it's not tacky like I was dreading it may be. There's a bar along the wall to my left, a stage along the back wall with a catwalk jutting out into the center of the large room and private rooms along the wall to my right. There are a few corridors branching off from the main room that I assume lead to toilets and dressing rooms, maybe. The bar, stage and doors are all shiny and black with silver accents and lights the same bright blue as the sign outside. It's kind of dark but the aforementioned lights and the illumination of the the empty stage makes it light enough to see my way as Bertl leads us to a table. Our group carry on weaving through the tables until the tall man stops and sits. The table is pretty close to the stage but mentioning it and asking to move further back won't do me any good.

"Right. I'll get everyone a beer. That cool with you guys?" Reiner asks us all once we've sat down. I nod and I notice the others agreeing too. "Okay. I'll be right back."

"Marc-oooo-o-o-o-oo!" Connie warbles into my ear, it's kind of annoying but the way he says it is rather affectionate.

"Connie," I say in return.

"Dude, you're twenty two. You're fucking twenty two!" I laugh and Connie carries on, "I can remember when you were still in diapers. My baby is growing up too quickly." Connie pretends to wipe away a tear and ruffles my already mussed hair. I hear sounds of agreement from Eren.

"We met four years ago!" I point out, completely incredulous.

"Aye. We did..." he seems to mull this over for a bit. I roll my eyes and turn to Bertholdt.

"Why did I let you guys pull me into this?" I ask him.

Bertl looks at me, a small smile curving his lips. "You'll have fun when things get going. I promise," his tone is quiet compared to the music playing throughout the club. I feel myself believing him, I smile back.

Reiner comes back, somehow holding five beers at once in his huge hands. I hastily take two, sipping from one and handing the other to an appreciative Connie.

"Getting more relaxed, Marco?" Reiner asks as he takes a seat by Bertholdt.

The two men lace their fingers together and place their clasped hands on the table, I watch the way they lean into each other. I am the only one here who is single, it really doesn't make sense to me - a group of taken men in a strip club. Connie and Sasha have been together since forever, Eren is completely smitten with his boyfriend Levi and Reiner and Bertl are going as strong as ever. Everyone had been fine with this though, my friends weren't gonna be looking at anyone else while they had the people they already did. This trip to the 'Three Walls' was just to make sure their single friend had a good birthday and I really appreciate them for that. Even though I would have been more than fine sitting in and ordering pizza.

My mind goes back to Reiner's question. "I think I may be."

The blonde smiles wide, "That's great! The show's gonna start up soon." He tacks a wink on the end for good measure. I feel myself blushing and I get the feeling I'm going to be in an almost permanent state of redness this evening.

Eren glances over at me, his green eyes grow wide and reflect the stage lights. "Woah," he states. "Marco, you're... so - so red it's almost blurring out your freckles!"

I just feel the blush getting worse. "Thanks for pointing that out, Eren."

In his almost drunken state, he seems to take me seriously. Eren gives me a sloppy thumbs up and says, "Welcome, Mar'."

Reiner checks his watch and then turns to me. "It's now starting."

As if Reiner himself had cued it, the music changes to something else and the stage lights become a touch brighter. Over the speakers someone asks the crowds in the club to welcome someone named Rose onto the stage. Every one starts to clap and a few people wolf whistle. I'm about to look around and tell the wolf whistlers to have a bit of respect when I remember where I am. I am in a strip club. Not that the strippers don't deserve respect, but then I don't suppose wolf whistles would be completely out of the question in an establishment like this.

Rose comes onto the stage where there is now a silver pole fixed at the end of the catwalk. I didn't even notice it appear - I just assume it came from within the stage and I hadn't been paying attention. She walks like the stage is somewhere that she belongs - she has great confidence up there, something I'd never get close to in her situation. Rose is a pretty woman but nothing she does turns me on. I spend her performance sipping from my beer and I completely avoid looking at her bare chest.

Reiner had told me there would be male performers which didn't surprise me - I'm gay, Bert and Reiner are gay, Eren is gay. It wouldn't have made sense for us to attend an all female strip show. I guess us gays are just gonna have to wait for the men.

I notice Connie, the only straight guy in our group, doesn't even watch the stripper. By looking over his shoulder I can see that he's been texting back and forth with Sasha. I feel a surge of affection for my friends - I just love the fact that my friends are in a relationship that is as beautiful as theirs. It seems sappy but it's true. I feel like squirming in my seat with happiness when he excuses himself and goes to the toilet, I know he's going to call Sasha. I crave for a relationship like that.

Rose finally finishes and we all clap - even if I didn't watch, it's polite.

The next person is a woman too - she seems a bit older and is introduced as Maria. Her outfit is actually rather regal looking, it's made of a rich red material and it flows as she saunters to the pole. I admire the way she wears it, like no one else could pull it off as well as her - and then she rips it away. I don't feel like admiring the way she... well, the way she _doesn't_ wear it.

I don't really watch this performance either. It's not like I find breasts gross or disgusting, I just don't want to watch this woman displaying hers.

My mind begins to wander and I can't stop thinking about what she's like outside of the 'Three Walls'. If she has any family or a partner. I decide she may have a couple of pets, maybe a cat - the posh kind like a sleek Siamese. I'm wandering if she could have another job when Bertholdt derails my train of thought.

"You're concentrating awfully hard on her shoes, Marco," the tall man comments with a smile.

"It does nothing for me, Bert," I explain with a grin and a shrug. Then I look to them, eyebrows furrowed in thought, "I think she may have a cat. A Siamese one. What do you think?"

Reiner laughs at this, a deep and booming sound. "Hmm, yeah. She seems like the type."

"Uh-huh," Eren agrees. "Very much.... like a cat woman."

Eren's speech is very slurred by this point and I notice he's finished both his and Connie's beers. "When you get home like that, I don't think Levi's gonna be too impressed, Eren," I caution.

Connie comes back and catches the statement. "Oh! Yeah! If you're sick in his apartment he'll make you clean it all up, hungover or not," Connie says. He sounds gleeful at the thought of an ill Eren being forced into cleaning his own vomit. It is kind of funny even if I feel awful for him. I chuckle and find that everyone at the table, but Eren, is laughing at his misfortune too.

"He's gonna _kill_ you!" Reiner comments.

Eren seems kind of - well, very - angry at us, he's almost crying. When drunk, Eren's emotions run wild. "Levi _loves_ me! He wouldn't do that!"

Everyone at the table is laughing again. "Don't laugh at me!" Eren shouts.

Bertl reaches over the table and pats Eren on the shoulder. He's no longer laughing and looks rather anxious, "Calm down, Eren. You're drawing attention to us."

I calm down and rub his back soothingly as one would to a small child. "Yeah, come on. Breathe," I urge in a soft tone. "We know, we know. He loves you, sure. We were just joking."

"I know. I'm 'kay," Eren relents, his breathing much more even. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands and sniffs deeply. He offers me a small smile, his cheeks still red and damp.

Dealing with a drunk Eren is like dealing with a five year old. I don't mind though - it makes for good stories to tell when he's sober. Telling Armin and Mikasa is the best, I guess we can add Levi to the list now.

"Right, that's good," Bertl says, he looks relieved. "Why don't you stop drinking for a bit. You had a lot before we left Marco's, didn't you?"

Eren thinks about it for a bit then nods. "Yeah, Bert. I did."

"I'll go get you some water," I suggest.

"Thank's, Mar'," Eren slurs. 

I start to leave my chair before realising at some point Eren had grasped onto the hem of my shirt. "Um, Eren," I prompt, looking to his hand.

The green-eyed man follows my gaze and lets go, the shirt is crumpled in that spot and Eren frowns. "Sorry...." he apologises.

"It's fine," I reassure him, flattening out the creases a little with my hand. "I'll be right back." 

~oOo~

It's quieter near the bar and I hang around a bit before the bartender turns to me. She's tall, brunette and tanned. A scattering of freckles cover her skin as well as tattoos I can't help but admire. She smiles at me and it's probably meant to look kind but it's sort of intimidating.

"What can I get ya?" asks the bartender, as she rests her forearms on the bar.

"Just some water, please. Could you throw in a few ice cubes too?" I request.

"Water?" The woman raises an eyebrow and gets to pouring the drink anyway.

"My friend is pretty drunk," I answer with a small laugh. "He's a really... passionate guy sober but when he's drunk," I shake my head a little, "It's a whole other level."

She laughs as she drops a few ice cubes into the glass with a pair of little tongs. "Okay, okay. Maybe that does warrant a glass of water."

"Trust me, with _Eren_ , it does." She laughs again.

I linger a bit longer although I have Eren's drink, I don't want to go back to the table yet. She seems to understand. 

"I'm Ymir," she offers. It's a pretty strange name, I quite like it.

"I'm Marco," I reply.

"What brings you here?" Ymir inquires to make conversation.

 "It's my birthday," I tell her. Ymir raises an eyebrow. "Yup, twenty two today. My friends insisted they bring me here."

"Well, Happy Birthday. You can have the water free in that case," Ymir says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes (the tap water is free anyway), "Gee, thanks."

She winks and declares, "Only the best service here at the 'Three Walls'!"

I laugh and thank her seriously before heading back to our table where everyone greets me enthusiastically. 

It's after two more female dancers that the first male stripper dances. We spend the female strippers' dances making assumptions about their lives outside of this job. One, we say, has a dragon that she keeps in her basement and she feeds all her leftovers to it, like a living garbage disposal. She also works for the mafia and is here undercover - trying to lure an evil lesbian killer into her hands. Things like that, wild guesses that aren't plausible in the least. It's actually really fun.

The first male's stage name is 'Captain' and he wears some sort of a military uniform. It's hot, I won't deny that, but it seems like he's new to this. He doesn't have the confidence of the dancers before him and he stumbles a couple of times. I just want to give this guy a hug though, not have sex with him or anything. 

"Bet he works at an animal shelter," Eren comments.

Reiner nods, "He's too precious to be a stripper."

"Hmm, too 'dorable," agrees Connie. Wait... _Connie_?! I'm not even gonna ask.

"Couldn't get off to 'im," Eren says seriously. "Would feel... feel wrong."

I think everyone agrees with that although we don't comment - Eren's the only one drunk enough to put it so blunt.

I clap hard at the end because I feel like he needs encouragement, maybe if he works on his confidence he'll be better next time.

It's the next guy that really gets me. He walks onto the stage to music I recognise as 'The Phoenix' by Fall Out Boy. He grins, it's confident and god damn sexy. I feel my blush from earlier building back up - reddening my neck, ears and face.

The guy who is introduced as 'The Officer' is stunning. He wears a costume that imitates the uniform of a policeman. His jacket is dark blue and cropped, it has a basic logo - it's green and the profile of a unicorn. I don't know if it's supposed to be some kind of gay joke thing but I can't find it in me to care. His trousers are the same blue and he has a white shirt on. His dark blonde hair is in an under cut, the top is gelled back and in a side part - an attempt at making it look official probably.

My eyes fixate on the way he rolls his hips as he sheds his trousers and his fingers undo the buttons on his shirt flawlessly - none of the awkward fumbling that I usually do. the Officer turns his back to the audience as he sheds his shirt, letting it slide slowly down his arms. With the fabric gone I can see why he's dancing to the song he is. Inked on his back is the most gorgeous tattoo of a phoenix. He is completely captivating, standing there in just a pair of tight, red boxers. They're designer, I note.

The blonde is so beautiful...  He's tall and lithe, his body perfectly toned. Tattoos decorate his arms and his thighs too. His skin practically glistens when the stage lights catch the beads of sweat on his body.

He works the pole like it's second nature to him. The man's body is so flexible and yet so strong - he moves with so much grace on the pole. He pulls himself up the pole and into positions I couldn't dream of achieving. I can tell my breathing is getting heavy and I feel uncomfortable in my constricting jeans. I just can't pull my eyes away from this man.

He looks into the audience every now and again and this time he looks at me. His eyes, lined in black, look almost gold when they catch the stage lights and I feel breathless. I take in his features - a pointed nose, sharp eyes, thin lips and eyebrows. He grins at me as he grinds against the pole and I hold back a whimper. I avert my eyes, no doubt blushing furiously. Everyone at the table notices and they laugh at my expense.

He sheds his final piece of clothing and his ass - oh, his ass. It's like a gift from God.

"Jeez, Marco, don't drool," Reiner says with a laugh. Bertl sends him a look of disapproval.

"Don't make him feel uncomfortable once he's finally enjoying himself," he says.

"Um, it's okay," I choke out.

I look back to the stage as the man - now completely starkers - bows, grabs his discarded clothing and heads backstage. I'm pretty disappointed that I missed the end but I push that feeling away and start clapping with the others in the club.

"Hmm. You liked him, huh, Marco!" Connie states with a mischievous grin.

"Could say... that. Maybe ya should take a trip.. to.. to the toilets," Eren adds in, laughing.

"Sush now, guys," Bertl says. "We brought him here to have a good time, not to mortify him."

I send him a grateful look and he smiles gently back. Everyone else drops the subject.

They all keep looking at one another with knowing glances - I know they're planning something awful and it makes me uncomfortable. I don't ask though because they'll just deny everything.

A few more dancers perform (one female and two male) but I don't watch. I'm still caught up in my thoughts of 'The Officer'. I know what I'm going to do when I get home and I'm really looking forward to it - I'm not going to lie.

Reiner leaves the table but when I ask why he just says he's going 'to take a nice long piss', as he puts it so eloquently. I frown when a sweaty Bertholdt stands and follows him into the crowds. They're gone for a while before a thought comes to mind, I push it away immediately. I know they wouldn't do anything like... that _here_ , in the toilets. Right? No, they wouldn't...

They come back, hands clasped together and they look just as they did when they left. I sigh deeply with relief, I know nothing happened even if they did take an age - I don't know why I even doubted them. They take their seats again. However, by the looks on their faces I know _something_ went down in their absence.

"Marco, you wouldn't mind getting me another beer would you?" Connie asks and he almost sounds innocent. _Almost_. I know something is going on but I don't voice my suspicions.

"Sure. I'll be right back."

~oOo~

Once I'm at the bar Ymir comes straight for me. "Hey, Marco."

"Hi. Can I have a beer please?" I ask. I'm pleasantly surprised she remembered my name on a night like this - the place is full.

"No. But you can have an explanation of why your friends have just left the club," she says, her voice is very matter-of-fact.

"Excuse me?" I'm really confused now. "My friends are just ove-"

"No, they're not anymore. They left you here." She hands me a napkin, written in a messy scrawl I recognise as Reiner's is a message. I read it, ' _Just in case you didn't believe her. We've left you. Have fun! x x'_

"What?" I ask, incredulous. 

"Yeah. Trust me though. You'll like their reasoning - you've got some good friends," Ymir says with a small laugh.

"Go on then...." I prompt her to explain.

"They've bought you a surprise and if you head on over to the room labeled 'two' you'll find out what," she smirks at me and I instantly feel uneasy.

"Oh, no. _Please_ , no," I plead. I try to get her to deny it but I know she's telling the truth. How could they do this to me?

"I'm not lying. I'll take you there myself if you don't go now," she warns. I don't move so she turns to another bartender. "Yo, Annie. I'll be back in a second."

A blonde woman down the bar nods once and turns back to pouring someone a drink.

Ymir comes out from behind the bar and beckons to me, I reluctantly follow her across the club.

"Trust me - your little gay heart will love them forever after this," the freckled woman tells me.

"You don't understand. I can't do this," I say. I trail slowly behind her. 

Sensing my reluctance still Ymir turns to me, face serious. "This guy is one of my best friends. 'Kay, you'll be fine with him. Promise."

"I don't know..." I rub the back of my neck nervously.

We reach the shiny black door marked with a silver number two.

"You're gonna be completely fine," she tells me again before knocking twice, each one firm and loud.

I'm ready to die of embarrassment when it opens and she points inside. "Get your freckled ass in there now. Have fun." Then she just leaves with a smirk.

My eyes are drawn to the door and then the man holding it open. "Hey," he says, a wide grin on his face.

I can feel death coming closer and closer. It's him. The Officer.

"Come in." He steps away from the door and I really have no choice at this point. I walk inside.

It's nice in here. There's a black leather sofa and a plush blue carpet, nothing much more. The other man walks to a shelf where he picks up his phone and plays about for a bit. Then he turns back to me.

"Okay," he says, his smile as wide as ever. "Sit"

It take a seat on the sofa and smile shyly at him. He's just wearing a white shirt and those dark blue trousers now. His hair is still slicked back - I can't help wanting to mess it up. It would look nicer not styled, more natural.

"So, your friends, Hunky McMuscles and Long-Legs McGhee, have paid for you to have twenty minutes with me. Cool, right?"

I just sit and blush. I stare at my hands and avoid looking at him.

He laughs a little. "Your friends said you may be like this."

He saunters over to me and takes my chin in his hand. He lifts my head and makes me look at him, his smile seems gentler now. "You don't have to be nervous. You're here to have fun."

"People keep saying that but all I feel is embarrassed," I admit with an unsure smile.

"Dude, you're actually adorable," he says and he's grinning again.

"You're making it worse," I whine. My face must be so red right now.

He laughs and walks back to the center of the room. "So, what do you like?" he asks, his voice is so low and smooth.

My mind goes blank and I panic before stuttering out,  "I-I, um, really love kittens."

He looks confused for a second and then laughs again, hard and loud. "See! You're so cute. I like you."

"Please, don't!" I cry out. I cover my red face with my hands and look away at the same time.

"Come on. We don't have much time," he says, still amused. "Take your hands away. Let me see those freckles?"

Reluctantly, I remove my hands. He looks at me through his lashes as he begins to undo his shirt. My trousers feel way too tight again.

"Shouldn't we leave this for the second date at _least_? Like, why don't you let me buy you coffee first," I suggest. I'm trying to get out of this situation but the idea of coffee with this man is really appealing. "I don't even know your real _name!_ "

He slips the shirt off and turns his back to me. Close up his phoenix tattoo looks even more impressive. It covers the left side of his back and the flame coloured tail feathers curl around to the right side. It has one piercing gold eye to me - like it's looking over its shoulder at me. A few flames decorate it here and there. It's so beautiful.

He turns and closes the gap between us, the way he moves is flowing and elegant.

"Look at me," he tells me. I do, my eyes rake up his perfect body and lock on his. The colour is like nothing I've ever seen before. His irises are a bold amber, almost golden.

He's watching me with half-lidded eyes, they're so enticing. "My name is Jean. And who says I like coffee?"

"Jean..." I say it back slowly. It's nice, It suits him. "I'm M-Marco."

"I know," he says matter-of-factually. He moves even closer to me.

"I mean... Y-you wouldn't have to drink any coffee. I really love - I love hot chocolate, personally." I know I'm stuttering and I feel a fresh wave of embarrassment. Jean makes a face of consideration but doesn't comment any further.

Jean then takes my hands and guides them to his body. One of them he moves across his chest and I revel in the way his smooth skin feels beneath my fingertips. His hips continue to move sensually but they still when he places my other hand over his zipper. I look to him and he nods his head with a small smile to encourage me. I pull the zipper down and he eases the trousers off before kicking them away over-dramatically. A giggle passes my lips and he chuckles too. 

He straddles my lap. I have no idea where to place my hands, afraid of crossing any boundaries so I awkwardly hold them between us. "Um, Jean..." I begin.

The other man rolls his eyes good-naturedly, takes my hands in his again and places them on his thighs.

"No higher than here," he tells me. He indicates with his hands just below the tops of his thighs. "You can also touch my chest and arms."  

I smile at him gratefully, I'm making myself look like an idiot but he's taking it well.

Then he begins to move. He circles his hips slowly and we're almost touching but not quite. I look anywhere but his face and find myself studying the tattoos on his thighs. They're really beautiful, they're bold and intricate just like the one on his back. A certain tattoo circling his left thigh surprises me, it's a lace garter complete with a delicate looking bow and everything. I trace my fingers over it, I've only ever known women to have these tattoos. Jean notices me looking and smiles.

"Like it?" he asks with that smooth voice of his.

I nod in confirmation. Why won't my blush go away?! "It's really p-pretty."

He laughs a little. "Thanks, I think so too."

He's still working his hips and it's very distracting. Circling, grinding. One of his hands tangles in my hair and it tugs gently. "They're really n-nice. A-all of them."

"My friend Historia owns a tattoo shop. She likes to practice on me - her girlfriend too. Ymir," Jean explains. It annoys me how coherent he is when I'm a babbling mess.

Now he says that, I can tell his were done by the same artist as Ymir's - the style she uses is very unique. I just nod at him because I don't think I can take the embarrassment of another stuttered sentence.

Jean then starts to kiss my jaw and my neck, the sensations immediately go to my groin. He hums against the skin there and pulls away a little. "You have any?" he asks, toying at the hem of my shirt. 

I'm surprised that I manage to pull my mind back to the conversation. "No, none for me."

"Ah, never?" he inquires.

"Maybe I'll h-have... to ask y-your friend..?" I say. He grins and nods.

Jean's fingers move to the buttons on my shirt and looks at me questioningly. "Can I?"

I think it over, I kind of want to say no but he has barely any clothes on for my sake right now... I nod and he undoes the buttons to reveal my chest. This is so awful. I look from my pudgy form to his toned one and I avert my eyes from his. Body confidence is not my forte, like, at all.

The blonde moves his fingers over my body lightly and I shiver at his touch. "Marco, it's fine. Look at me?"

I keep my eyes focused on the corner of the room still and shake my head a little. "Please?" he asks when I don't answer he leaves it alone.

He continues to plant kisses all over my body. The twenty minutes must be over soon, surely? However, I feel my discomfort easing as he leaves my body and focuses his lips on my neck and jaw again.

The other man's hips still rock to silent music as his fingers trail up and down my arms. It all feels so good, my mind is full of so many thoughts that I can't arrange.

I can hear the alarm on his phone telling us that twenty minutes are up but I don't want this to end. We must have wasted a lot of time talking and him trying to make me feel comfortable because it doesn't feel like this has been going on for long enough. Jean obviously feels the same way because he ignores the alarm.

"Jean... t-the alarm," I get out.

"Doesn't matter," he replies. I'm not gonna argue with that.

My body starts to seek out friction and my hips move up to meet his. I gasp. He lowers his hips down and continues to work the way he was but now there's no gap between us. I begin to lose my composure even further.

My arms reach out and loop around his waist and his hands stroke my chest and arms, tracing little circles and lines. One of his hands drops to my nipple and he teases me. I'm breathing deeply and I notice that he is too.

We keep going. We grind against each other and Jean keeps kissing my neck and collar bones. My head is pressing into the back of the sofa and I can hear moaning, both from him and me.

It feels so good, the bulge in my pants rubbing against his. In the thin pair of boxers that he's wearing, the outline of his erection is very visible - my mouth drops open and I breathe erratically. My mind is so fuzzy. I can feel heat curling up and gathering inside me. "Oh, Jean... _Jean_."

"Fuck, Marco," he moans back. He peppers my jaw with kisses but never my mouth. I kind of want him to but I don't push it.

I squeeze my eyes shut and a strangled cry escapes me as I come. In my _pants_.

Not long after Jean loses it too and with a string of curse words, he comes. In his _pants_.

We breathe heavily for a minute and he slumps against me, our foreheads sweaty and pressed together. When we're this close I can see a tiny hole under his lip where he must normally wear a ring or stud. I notice the same for his ears and left eyebrow. I'd like to see him with them all in, the idea is very appealing.

"Dude, I just came in my pants like some fucking _teenager_ ," Jean states.

I laugh although it comes out breathy and faint. "If it makes - If it makes you feel any better so did I," I say.

He laughs too and sits up to grin at me. After a while Jean gets off my lap and heads to the shelf where he grabs his phone and collects his clothes from the floor. Then he turns back to me and grabs my hand with his free one.

Jean pulls me up by my hand and for a second I'm unsure if I can actually stand. I turns out I can and the other man leads me to a door I failed to notice in the first glance around.

"Where are we going?" I ask apprehensively.

"My dressing room," he supplies. "Unless you wanna go home in dirty underwear. I have a spare pair you can have."

"Um, okay." I'm still reluctant to leave this room and Jean seems to sense it.

"This goes out the back of the building - no one will see you," Jean reassures.

"Oh, I see." I nod, wrapping my shirt around myself and holding it shut with my free hand.

He leads me outside and then seems to remember his state of undress. The cold air hits him and he hisses, "Fuck! It's damn cold."

We both laugh and run to another door in the side of the building. I'm hyper-aware of the fact our hands are joined as he drags me to his dressing room. My hand feels really cold when Jean lets go to yank the door open and I want to take it back. I don't, that would be weird, right? We walk inside.

"Ahhh. So warm!" Jean comments as he rubs his bare arms to heat them up.

The room we're in now is smaller than the other one but just as sparsely decorated - there's a full length mirror and a small table, that's it. On the floor is a large bag that Jean goes straight to. It must contain his casual clothing.

He pulls out a pair of boxers and passes them to me. "I'm sorry about the - urm - quality," Jean apologises.

"It's fine." Admittedly they do look kind of old but they're clean, unlike the ones I'm wearing.

"I don't actually own a million pairs of designer underwear - these ones are my only pair 'cause I wear them on stage. Why they have to be posh," he tries to explain. He seems embarrassed and the little blush that reddens his cheek bones is so cute. For some reason I feel like it's a significant thing - to have seen him blush like that. There's not a trace of his grin or usual arrogance.

"Really. It's fine, they're fine," I assure him.

"'Kay," he says, seemingly more calm at my words.

"Um, could you turn away?" I ask and then I'm the one blushing again.

He chuckles but turns his back to me as requested. I turn my back too.

I take off my jeans and then my dirty underwear. I'm wiping away any mess left on me with the dirty underwear when I hear an exhale of air and Jean laughs. "How many fucking freckles can cluster on one person's ass?!"

"Jean!" I shout, my blush intensifying. I quickly pull on the clean boxers and turn to him. I cross the room and I punch him lightly in the arm but he keeps laughing. "You said you wouldn't look!"

"Well, it's only fair. You saw my butt, now I've seen yours," he says. He has a huge smirk plastered on his face.

We're quiet while I pull my jeans back on and Jean cleans up too. Apparently, I'm wearing his only clean pair of underwear because he just pulls his jeans on with nothing underneath. "Oh, I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry. I can't send you home on your birthday without any pants on! I'm fine," he genuinely doesn't sound phased about parading around with no underwear on. I shrug.

"So, you didn't kiss me on the lips..." I say, trying to sound casual.

He turns serious. Without a smile he looks different - I don't like it. "Yeah. It's too personal."

"I knew it! Like 'Pretty Woman', right?" I ask, it seems like a completely innocent question to me but Jean stiffens. I'm not sure I should carry on from his reaction.

"Never seen it. But isn't that about a prostitute?" he says, his voice defensive now - it's almost like he was waiting for this.

"Urm, yeah. But I-" I rush to explain myself.

He cuts me off and rushes into what he says next. "I'm not a prostitute, Marco. I am a stripper. And my lap dances are expensive 'cause I don't really like giving them - I never go over twenty minutes and I _never_ do what we just did."

"I'm sorry, Jean," I say. "I di-"

He cuts me off and looks at me with a scowl that seems so out of place. Jean's voice is calmer when he speaks next, "I am not a prostitute but I liked you, that's why I did it. I don't want any money for the extra time - I wasn't doing my job when we did that, I was doing that of my own accord. So don't just assume I go around selling my body. I liked you."

The way he says 'liked' as in the past tense really gets to me. I feel hurt although that's really stupid - I just hurt _him_ , however unintentional it was. I've also only known him for one evening...

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" I tell him as I wave my arms around in front of me. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't. I'm sorry. I like you too... Really, I did mean it when I asked you out."

He doesn't say anything. He just pulls on a flannel shirt and starts to pack away his stage outfit. I start to worry - his silence is making me tense. "I really am sorry. I didn't me-"

"I know you didn't. It's fine," he says, his words come out clipped. "I just jumped to conclusions."

"Does this mean you don't want to get coffee?" I ask, hoping he likes the idea as much as I do. I really hope he to accepts - it sounded like a great idea but now I don't think it's going to happen.

He turns to me, his face softer and a small smile curves his lips. "I think it sounds great."

"Oh... _really_?" I ask. I'm surprised that he's agreed and I'm also ecstatic.

"Yes, really," he confirms and he has his grin back.

I actually feel like dancing... or whooping. I don't think either would be a good idea right now if I don't want him to think I'm crazy. I just smile really widely and I know I'm blushing. Again.

"You want my number?" I ask.

"Of course," he says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and I grab mine, we exchange numbers.

When it's time to leave the room I get really awkward again because I realise I have nowhere to put my dirty underwear. Jean laughs and takes them. He says he'll clean them for me and we'll exchange our pants back next time we meet - 'because we will see each other again', he states. It's really embarrassing but there's nothing else I can think to do. Finally we leave the room.

I call for a cab and he waits with me outside the club, we say nothing. When it pulls up it's kind of weird and I don't know what to do. I hope that the cold air has reddened my cheeks to the point that my blush won't be noticeable. I lean over, peck him on the cheek and I get in the cab so damn quick my ass hurts after. I shut the door, state my destination and the driver pulls away.

It's few seconds after that I get a text. It's from Jean. 'Goodnight, Marco x'

I drop my phone into my lap and smile into my hands. I am so glad Reiner forced me into this club.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm pretty sure the idea of Jean's phoenix tattoo is from wisteria. it just really suits him, i think
> 
> thanks for reading! ~*


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